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The smiles and sunshine and sleep of the weekend are now a foggy memory and Iím left home alone and tired. Theo has recently decided that he wants to be held all of the time. And he doesnít really care for sleep, either. (He slept so much the first 2 weeks, I actually ordered books on Amazon. I was all, this is so easy! Ha! Iím an idiot.) While I love holding a baby as much as the next person, I donít like holding a baby all day. (Sorry, dude.) I much prefer holding a baby for 15, 20, 30 minute intervals then, say, eating, peeing, or accomplishing somethingóanything, too. Theo, however, does not agree. And The little bugger tests me. There I am dancing around the living room to Zombie (you know, the Cranberries song from forever ago) and I see that his eyes are shut. But as soon as the thought of putting him down enters my head, his eyes pop open. Heís like, donít even think about it, lady. Ah!

I told Nate that I need to make him a onsie that reads Dance, Bitch.
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